


A Little More Confidence

by Adverant



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Missing Persons, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25065295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adverant/pseuds/Adverant
Summary: Oikawa lost the one thing he thought he couldn't ever bear to live without. It takes reliving the past to remember how to move forward again, on his own.It's a hell of a way to fuck with someone, to give them all the love in the world and then to leave without a goodbye.
Relationships: Nishinoya Yuu/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: HQ Mini Bang





	A Little More Confidence

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Fanfiction for the Haikyuu Mini Bang 2020 Event, with partner Kai!
> 
> I'll link their art once they have posted it~

The sun still hadn’t risen when Nishinoya crawled out of bed, carefully unwinding his boyfriend’s lanky limbs from around his much smaller body. From where their legs looped over and between each other, to where their fingers were entwined behind the brunette’s ear, their arms acting as a headrest more than the actual pillows piled at the top of the bed. His right arm has gone a little numb from the slow circulation and trying to gently shift his boyfriend off his arm is an unparalleled challenge, at least without waking him it is. It shouldn’t be surprising to him that Oikawa begins to stir as the bed cools, his eyes are still shut but Nishinoya can tell he’s drifting a little. In the faint twitching of his closed eyelids, long, feminine eyelashes fluttering slightly against his cheek, and the sudden sharp stutter in his breath. Followed by a strong inhale as he settles more loosely into the open space of the bed. Maybe not conscious yet, after all. Nishinoya smiles, but the corner of his mouth twitches and he sighs quietly. He’s endeared simply by the sleeping form of Oikawa Tooru, all long pale porcelain limbs and sparse light body hair, soft pink lips, and messy light brown hair that even with hours of tossing caused by his stress still looks perfect even with bedhead.

Oikawa’s first moments of waking are blind. Blind, and terribly lonely also, he notes when his fingers curl around nothing but open air and his own silky though frizzy strands. He’s used to the small inferno of Nishinoya at his side, curled into him tight and breathing onto his neck in that stuttering, sleep-slowed pace. Burning a small hole into his chest with the hand he keeps literally buried in his boyfriend’s shirt, he thinks to stop him from rolling away in his sleep. Though Oikawa always pulls Nishinoya with him when he moves in the night anyway, like he wants to just carry him everywhere with him, even unconsciously. He’d be lying to himself if he thought that wasn’t true, either. Though at times he feels a little like Icarus, burning up in the summer heat, still unwilling to shift away from his boyfriend during the night. Knows that of the two of them, he’s the one with poor circulation, and Nishinoya craves the constant relief of his cooler skin. Even though they stick with sweat that makes them both a little distressed in the morning, Oikawa always whines in the morning to the sound of Nishinoya’s laughter, getting his face peppered in kisses.

Just the memories are making his heart flutter, a smile twitching on his face, still unwilling to face the dark and cold morning.

Oikawa can hear Nishinoya moving around him and with his picturesque memory, he could tell exactly what his boyfriend was up to. He kept their room constantly neat, even in the wake of hurricane Yuu. When Nishinoya stepped lightly, close the bed and tried his best to wiggle open the top drawer of the dresser there, he knew he was grabbing a pair of socks, reaffirmed when he tried his best– and failed– to sit on the bed without moving too quickly to alert him. Oikawa still didn’t move, waiting and listening silently. Picturing the darkness of their room, Nishinoya’s eyes slowly adjusting as he stumbled around when he first woke up, stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed frame like he always did and trying to keep himself quiet, and– yup. Like clockwork, the weight seeped off the mattress and in a moment he heard a barely audible thud and the hiss of air between Nishinoya’s teeth while he tried to conceal his pain.

They really ought to move the bed into the corner, at that rate.

Oikawa heard him fumbling for something, his eyebrows furrowing lightly, he didn’t remember anything being at the end of their bed usually. Then, he hears the quiet drag of a zipper and sighs long and quiet. Ah, his bag. He didn’t remember Nishinoya saying he had classes today, but maybe he just had plans to swing by the university for extra practice after his jog. Or maybe he was planning to drag Oikawa on yet another adventure.

They had a lot of those adventures. They’d be in classes one day, then the next Oikawa would be texting Daishou to trade notes with him when he gets back, already many hours too far from home to get back in time to attend. They hadn’t been able to really take any of those impromptu trips in a while, with exams going on they had to sit tight and focus in class, and couldn’t risk being late for any exams. Attendance never was a very big criterion in their classes and had no reflection on his grades, at least not noticeably. It wasn’t like he’d go during the week a lot, usually just on the weekends. With all the extra practice he and Nishinoya did together in the mornings right when the campus opened to after classes right until the campus closed, they weren’t falling behind athletically either. They were both keeping up just fine with their team.

Oikawa felt bad of course, for obviously favouring Nishinoya’s time so much, being the team’s captain. At the end of the day though, tournaments had come and gone, they’d reached for the stars at nationals, and now with exams passed all he had to worry about was the scouting week. Pro scouts would be observing practice matches between the universities in Tokyo for a week starting in the next few days, he wasn’t ignorant to the overworking he was doing.

It showed in the soreness of every muscle, the strain he’d felt just in his morning jogs, and especially in the stiffness of his right knee. That old childhood injury that just… never quite stopped holding him back. He’d done everything he could to let it heal, but it was still an inconvenience to him. At least he’d managed to keep himself from injuring it again, it hadn’t become recurring at least. Well, really, Nishinoya was the one keeping him in line. Where Iwaizumi had left a notable gap in Oikawa’s life, focussed on his own studies back in Miyagi, Nishinoya had learned to fill those spaces in his own way. It wasn’t like a replacement, not really, and of course Oikawa still called Iwaizumi every weekend to catch up– like hell he’d ever let Iwaizumi legitimately slip out of his life– it had just satisfied him in a different way.

With Nishinoya, Oikawa felt cared for, and he didn’t feel like a nuisance like he always did with Iwaizumi’s tough love. Nishinoya would just do things, wouldn’t explain himself or ask for permission, and Oikawa would be lucky if he ever apologized for his brashness later. It was okay because Oikawa could tell from the determination in his eyes, it was all out of love. He’d just let Nishinoya care for him and do his best to provide the same kind of nurturing care in return. He’s not exactly the most paternal guy, but most things that he lacks Nishinoya makes up for in his own ways. They’re a complement to each other.

When Oikawa finally opened his eyes, Nishinoya had finished gathering his things to start the day, what drew Oikawa from the depth of sleep truly and caught his attention was the almost imperceptible creak of the door’s hinge. Nishinoya was in the doorway, outdoor running shoes tied at the laces and hanging over his shoulder off his index and middle fingers, his blond dyed tuft of hair sticking out of the front of his backward turned university grade ball cap, he was dressed in long jogging shorts and a tank top that hangs low on his chest, with a red and blue sweater Oikawa could swear was his at one point is practically falling off his shoulders, pooling in folds at his elbows where he’s rolled the sleeves. Even in the dark, Oikawa can perfectly see the fondness of his eyes and can remember it from every moment of his life those past two years. He can’t exactly see all those details, with the light from the hall casting a brilliant gold halo around his boyfriend’s silhouette, but the impression still leaves a heavy warmth in Oikawa’s chest.

Oikawa just knows that look so well. That soft smile of admiration, the kind he only gives Tooru when he thinks he won’t notice it, it’s how he knows Nishinoya thinks he’s still asleep. That warmth and coziness it filled him with was enough to make up for the slightly cooler patch of blanket and pillows, and Oikawa cuddled into the radiating remainder of Nishinoya’s presence, he let himself slip back into unconsciousness after that brief moment.

–––

When Oikawa woke properly, there was a discomfort deeply embedded in him that he couldn’t shake. It was like a chill settling into his bone marrow, it stirred his stomach and had him thinking that maybe he’d gotten sick, spending a little extra time in the bathroom going about his routine lazily in case he did get ill and needed to ask Daishou for notes again. He could tell classes would be difficult that day in particular, even struggling to focus on brushing his hair back into its familiar routine-set waves. It was like something imperceptible had changed, he just couldn’t place a finger on it, but he could feel the shift. It just felt… wrong.

Going about his day was harder with that feeling lingering, it was holding him back and giving him hesitance in things he normally wouldn’t have had a second thought about. He went through the kitchen, dragging elegant fingertips over the countertop while he observed the space and took in the minute details, searching for the cause of his unease. Flyers were piled on the counter beside the fridge, as they usually were, but he took his time to thumb through the advertisement for fast food places around the block and for appliances and the like as if they’d tell him what it was he was missing. Instead, it was a bunch of slightly damp papers that had sat in front of their door for too long. He dropped into a crouch to get into the cupboard below the sink, grabbed a plastic bag, and pushed the flyers off the counter into it before tossing the bag of papers back onto the counter. He probably wouldn’t throw them out for a few more days if not a week, but at least they were tidier. The mess wasn’t what was bothering him either, it seemed, and he went through making breakfast with a tap in his foot and nervous humming in lulls of uncomfortable silence. Just a rice omelet, nothing overly exerting, he thought the mindless process would help.

It’s disconcerting that it doesn’t, and when he gave up halfway through his meal with a loss of appetite he decided he’d have to take vitamins or something after practice. It’s unusual for him to not have an appetite, especially when stress normally provokes him to eat, once again he’s of the mind he really must have been getting sick. The idea made his stomach turn, with scouting week so close he didn’t have any time to rest or perform less than perfect for his team. When he did let the worries slip his mind, focussed on driving himself to the campus and absently blowing bubbles in his mint chewing gum, the only place his mind wandered was to the love of his life. He couldn’t shake the feeling about something he was missing, but he was always certain of his feelings for Yuu. Thinking of Yuu just… made him want to try.

Their relationship was proof that taking a chance could be worth it, so once he’d parked in the student lot and tightening his book bag over his shoulder he pulled out his phone to send out a text. Just to let Nishinoya know where he’d be later, Oikawa wanted to get practice in after classes. The single-mindedness of solo practice ironically always got him out of his head. He’d only ever broken that nasty habit of venting through the game with Nishinoya by his side, now it’d become nothing more than an exercise. Calming and not needing of thought. He needed some of that right now, though he couldn’t have placed why it was.

Oikawa nearly walked into at least three other people on his way to class, his focus just couldn’t be pulled from his head. The lecture went by with a frustration he couldn’t wrestle with or explain, he couldn’t even find a reason for worries or anxieties to exist for him with Nishinoya. Things were perfect. They were comfortable, in a nice townhouse apartment they’d decorated to the nines and made a home out of. They’d both wanted to have a pet and both didn’t have time with their busy semesters to care for one though so it had been a discarded idea. Maybe it was all the time in between that they didn’t get to spend together, and maybe it had nothing to do with Nishinoya at all. Was he growing apart? Were his feelings changing, outside of his will?

Oikawa didn’t believe in that sort of thing. Falling apart was for people who weren’t in love, a lesson he’d learned from his parents long ago. Not that he had an issue with his stepfather, he was a nice man, but he had known for a really long time watching them, and watching his older sister with them, that his mother hadn’t loved his father. Not really. He’d known from early on that the only thing he could describe his feelings for Nishinoya as was ‘love’.

When they’d first met it was through volleyball, of course. Everything they have ever done apart and everything they’ve ever struggled with together was through volleyball. Back in middle school, Nishinoya had been nothing but a fleeting image of a smaller boy with far too much energy. He didn’t have any of the capabilities he’d later pick up in high school, but Nishinoya had been an incredible libero even he could appreciate the skill of since the first time Oikawa had met him, in the second year of middle school. Chidoriama was a powerhouse school like shiratorizawa and had they had a better offence to lead Nishinoya, he could have bet they’d have actually been real rivals. When they met again, it was the third year in middle school, and they met glances through the net and bowed, feeling the same respect for one another. somewhere along the line, that respect had become something else. He couldn’t even place it, the moment those golden eyes got in his head the first time. Haunted his dreams.

Oikawa had never dreamed of relying on someone like he’d dreamt of relying on Nishinoya, in his heart he had pictured them on the same side of the net all that time. For a time, he regretted following his father to his alma mater instead of exploring the possibility of attending elsewhere. Rather than linger on how he’d made the poor decision of who other than Iwaizumi would be on his team, by the time they clashed again in high school he’d taken to imagining a world where they belonged to each other as part of something much larger than high school volleyball. He imagined going much further, and he’d hoped to hold Nishinoya in his arms in the process.

In all his daydreaming of how they came together, he almost didn’t notice that he couldn’t even recognize what his professor was on about now. There was a red spot on his cheek from leaning on his hand, and he fussed with it as if despite his better judgement he could disguise it. He felt embarrassed, looking around to the other students to make sure nobody had noticed, meeting the usual amount of disinterest aside from one girl on his other side who would occasionally glance his way. He’d put together within the first two times they’d spoken that she had taken an interest in him. As sweet and flattering as that is, it kind of makes him sad that he’ll have to tell her the truth and ruin their friendly interactions eventually. That was how things went.

Oikawa had never blamed Nishinoya for that either, the friends, family even, he’d lost along the way of realizing he loved Nishinoya. After all, if it weren’t him, it would have been somebody else. At least he had figured as much unless he just happened to be gay for this one boy in particular, and really that couldn’t be all that bad if he was. Oikawa couldn’t see a world without him in it, since that time they met when they were young. It’s a strange dependant presence in his life, even when in the early years that they knew of one another they had hardly spoken or interacted outside of volleyball. But volleyball is Tooru’s life, and so Nishinoya was bound to always be a part of it too. By sheer coincidence, rather than a matter of convenience. He couldn’t be happier that it was that way.

 _God, what am I getting so sentimental over?_ He wondered to himself, flicking through empty pages that should have been filled with notes by now. He couldn’t bring it upon himself to care, leaning over to whisper to the obsessive girl next to him, “Excuse me, Miyu-chan, is there any chance I could borrow your notes after class today?” Their eyes met for a moment, and he watched her dissolve into frantic stammering.

“Yes— um— of course, Oikawa-san!” She nodded enthusiastically, rearranging the parchment under her hands and pressing the ends to meet at nice even edges. Her glance at the clock didn’t go over his head, he knew the lecture was practically done but apparently she hadn’t realized how much time had passed since it had started. He kind of admired her for that, the uninterruptable focus she could have, while his mind betrayed him. Distracting him with the one person in his life he couldn’t seem to stop thinking of— damn him anyway. For being so short, and cute, and handsome. So easy for Oikawa to lose himself in.

“Thank you, really~” He chimed, carefully tucking the notes in between the pages of his own notebook and closing the pale blue cover. He slipped the notebook into his bag and got to his feet just as the professor announced the end of the lecture, reminding them that the term test would be soon and to study for it. He was practically at the bottom of the steel-edged stairs before anyone else had moved, the click of the door behind him a few footfalls later. Oikawa was grateful for his first class of the day being later in the morning, it meant he got to sleep in longer than usual on some days when he didn’t have practice, extra practice, or gym days planned. It also meant he went straight from that particular lecture hall to lunch, he was really looking forward to it.

Not once since the first time Oikawa had stepped foot in the university cafe with Yuu at his side, nervous and over the moon about their date, had he ever had lunch on university grounds and been anywhere but that particular cafe. It wasn’t particularly amazing or anything, but the memories were good and kept him coming back. That and he had a few friends who are employed by the university there, some that had stayed after they’d graduated too. While he was thinking about it, he noticed a familiar short blonde behind the counter as he was pushing open the door, a bell singing above his head. “Yachi~!” He trilled brightly, approaching the counter and leaning his palms against the cool, clean-kept surface. “How’s it goin’?”

She obviously hadn’t been paying attention to his approach because she jumped at the sound of his voice. “Oikawa-senpai!” she squeaked, a rag in hand for cleaning the display clutched tightly between her fingers. After her initial reaction of panic though she seemed relieved, happy to seem him even. Or at least that was what he gathered by the blinding smile, despite how tired her eyes looked.

Yachi folded the small towel carefully and set it on the counter, bouncing on her heels a little. “Well, it’s— you know, going! And how are you?” She chirps, “The usual today?”

“Yes, please.” Oikawa graced her with a soft, genuine smile. “I’ve been alright, it’s been hard to concentrate lately though. I’m just feeling a little off.” He confided with a minute shrug of one shoulder, fingers slipping off the countertop to rest at his sides, and then thumbs hooking the pockets of his jeans.

Yachi gave him a concerned look, “Is everything alright with you and Nishinoya-senpai?” He nodded in response and she relaxed a bit. “Okay. Maybe you’re catching a cold?”

“Ugh, god, I hope not!” He whined, wrinkling his nose in a probably unattractive-looking expression at the thought. “Scouting week is so close. I don’t have time to be out of commission!” Yachi laughed airily, fingers tapping swiftly on the touch screen of the cafe’s menu roster to ring up his usual order— a french vanilla latte and some freshly baked milkbread donated to the cafe from the baking program kids. She has the ease of years now, ingrained in her reflexes and in her body, first and second fingertips calloused more than the others. Yachi had been attending for three years, working towards a graphic design and business degree. He actually hadn’t found out what she was studying until recently, being a university student all you heard at first was, ‘ _So what are you here for’,_ like some kind of convicts. He’d avoided the question altogether after he had finished his first year— he felt that if he wasn’t a freshman, he shouldn’t act like one.

With scouting on his mind, he supposed he might be a bit nervous. It made sense that Nishinoya came to mind a lot when he was nervous about volleyball, he was Oikawa’s libero in training after all. It didn’t feel like it was all there was to that, but he was trying to let the weird unease go. He’d have to sit through two more lectures, one of which he’d be putting up with Daishou and he’d need concentration and energy for that. He had neither at the moment.

Oikawa sat at his usual seat in the cafe, one of only a handful of tables, and when his drink and milkbread was prepared Yachi brought it over to him. He ran a finger along the chipped edge of the ornate little glass plate, admiring. When they’d come here, jumpy and unsure how to act on a date after a young life with no time for that kind of social milestone, their icebreaker had been about how the cafe really should have considered something besides glass or porcelain for their plates. Yuu had said they were impractical, and of course, he’d agreed— but secretly, he still thought they were cute and beautiful. He could still remember how Yuu had shifted into the man he loved before his eyes the moment the tension had snapped, all energetic and adorable. It had made his heart beat out of his chest.

It still kind of had that effect.

He still didn’t have an appetite really, which was really starting to get him worried. Yachi seemed concerned as well, normally he would sit a moment or two, finish his milkbread and then be on his way. Oikawa would sit and eat at the fountain in the courtyard, a little social square and garden at the center of the property, the school was built on a hill so it had a fantastic view. If it kept up as was, he probably wouldn’t have the energy for the extra practice today, let alone evening practice later.

Oikawa nibbled his bottom lip, sitting there after he had finished his milkbread, sipping his latte languidly. He had the time to spare to linger on things, but he was growing irritable of the feeling that everything was moving too slowly. Like he should have been rushing for something.

Oikawa could suddenly pinpoint the feeling. He felt like he was missing something, something big.

He shifted the teacup between his palms, the hot ceramic stung his hands in the places where fewer callouses had been worn in, but he hardly had felt it at all at his fingertips. Over years and years of setting, that was something he’d grown used to. It hadn’t stopped him from feeling how soft Nishinoya’s skin was, though, and that was all he could really ask for.

–––

When Oikawa arrived back at his apartment, the lingering lost feeling had remained with him for the rest of his day. He hadn’t finished his latte, he’d been exhausted during his last two lectures of the day too. In his final class, Daishou had watched him with concern. They’d made their usual banter, of course, in which Daishou was clearly explaining something poorly, and when Oikawa called him out he’d been upset. Daishou had used the most roundabout way to explain their project and the whole experience was frustrating and tiring, but he’d gotten it in the end. That was the most level of concentration he’d managed for the rest of the day, listening to Daishou’s patronizing teaching strategies. It was a wonder the guy had any friends at all, even if he’d been able to get through to Oikawa in the end. He had said as much out loud, his questionable friend had simply told him he was only like that with Oikawa. He’d had choice words, but they quickly ran out of time for their banter and he had to be off for extra practice.

Oikawa had really been expecting Nishinoya to be waiting, expecting him. He had expected the nets to be set up and his over-enthused spitfire of a boyfriend to be hanging out on the edge of the bleachers, swinging his legs. That was how things had been for the past two years, predictable when it came to volleyball. Instead of whatever he had expected, Oikawa had walked into an empty, silent, dark gymnasium. The only squeak of shoes on the floor had been his own, the lights hadn’t been touched for the women's team evening practice yet and none of the equipment had left the storage room since the junior team’s morning practice. He had to set it all up himself, the entire time he’d thought about the time they’d spent doing this together. Not that long ago, he was still waiting for an opportunity to play officially with Nishinoya at his back, protecting his floor. Now that he’d had that, Oikawa had become spoiled, expectations too high to reach. The empty gym was taunting and the loneliness he felt was distracting and stifling. He’d long learned a hard lesson that whether or not he improved with one practice, that one practice was a step closer to improvement, so Oikawa had pushed through it.

The same kind of expectation and loneliness rushed over him when he pushed the apartment door open, key swinging around his finger in swift, short motions and a frown lilting the corners of his lip. It felt just as empty there, all the lights out and a missing pair of shoes not there to trip him today, the silence stretching too long and too broad. It made him feel unsafe, even a bit paranoid, to only be able to hear himself. Oikawa was only able to hear the puffs of his own breath, the shuffle of his own shoes while he carefully plucked each lace loose, the gentle padding of his own feet on the hardwood echoing.

“Yuu-chan?” Oikawa called lightly. The sinking feeling in his gut should have been concern for his boyfriend’s health, thinking him sick and bedridden, unable to tolerate light. Instead, it was dread, fear. He was afraid to be alone here, after missing their routine all day. He could have used a little normalcy, but it seemed like he wasn’t going to get anything of the sort.

Dinner had gone by quickly, but at least Oikawa was able to cook and get down something high in protein and fat to keep him moving, metabolizing properly. It would be the men’s volleyball practice in both the morning and the evening the next day, it was the one day of the week where both overlapped, though he knew Nishinoya wouldn’t be participating during scouting week he’d been excited and reassured just for him to watch the practices. If he wasn’t eating properly he wouldn’t have the energy to keep up with such a competitive lifestyle, let alone energy to keep up with and impress Nishinoya himself.

Oikawa stared at the countertop an hour after he’d finished his meal, tapping his utensils against the finished surface, lost in thought. Really he had thought that at any moment Yuu would burst through the front door in a whirlwind, with quite a story to tell. He’d do that sort of thing sometimes. He’d never been radio silent for this long, however.

With a frustrated huff, Oikawa had resolved to another text in his boyfriend’s direction. Then another text, and some more followed. He didn’t come out the gate demanding his whereabouts, only ranted and rambled about his day. Nishinoya was the kind of guy to always text back something, even just ‘mhm’ sometimes. Once he’d waited what he deemed a reasonable amount of time for almost twenty messages, Oikawa had resorted to desperate measures.

Oikawa and Tanaka hadn’t gotten along at first, their differences were garish, it made hanging out together difficult, and deciding group activities even harder. That said, he also knew that Tanaka kept close tabs with Nishinoya when something was wrong, and he could always be counted on. He was a reliable, trustworthy guy, a guy who wouldn’t worry about knowing his boyfriend’s location better than he himself does. Tanaka did text him back, but it wasn’t what Oikawa had wanted to hear. He hadn’t heard from Nishinoya either, not for a day or two. The panic was really building, with an extremely uncomfortable lump in his throat and a taste like acid in the back of his throat. The situation was nauseating.

Oikawa didn’t go to sleep for quite a while after that, reinvigorated with his worry and anxiety, desperate for answers. For anything. He’d gotten in contact with the few friends he and Yuu had shared, Kuroo, Yamamoto, and Yaku, but the three of them had no clue what was going on either. The clock ticked closer and closer to midnight, he’d spent hours labouring internally over what he could have missed. It had all been so normal, one moment he was just missing his boyfriend and worrying about his future, and the next he was lying awake, tossing, turning, alone in bed. He’d thrown the blankets off the bed, discontent no matter how many or how few he’d buried himself in. No matter what position he’d tried, without Nishinoya there, he was sure he couldn’t do it; Oikawa couldn’t fall asleep, he was convinced. Kuroo had texted him back eventually, seeing Oikawa online on their messenger app, scolding him for being awake but Oikawa couldn’t really have cared less.

Oikawa could barely stomach the way Kuroo tried to comfort him, saying Yuu would come home to sleep, even if he were upset about something and hadn’t brought it up. He was the kind of guy who came home no matter what, Kuroo had said. In reality, Oikawa knew that too, but he was having trouble. He doubted Nishinoya, for that moment, wrapped up in his sorrow and fears. There weren’t many things he would doubt his boyfriend for. Outlandish tales involving riding sharks, maybe, but his reliability…? Never in a million years would he have thought he’d be in doubt over whether or not he’d have that little warmth of his tucked under his arm when he fell asleep.

Eventually, while the hours into the morning came gradually, even with the stress he was under Oikawa couldn’t hold himself back from the brink of exhaustion. In a moment, he’d been staring at his bedroom ceiling, counting the seconds, sitting up at every sound that might be a door opening or closing. In the next moment, he had blinked, suddenly he’d found himself staring at a different ceiling. It was still his of course, but the sun had risen and was sending streaks of sunlight across the room, making it harsh on his eyes.

His limbs felt cold and empty, he felt the disappointment hit hard. Oikawa rolled over to find that Nishinoya wasn’t there beside him, just an arm's length away when an arm's length away was the furthest he had been for two whole years.

It shattered his reality a little.


End file.
